Rain
by DiePi
Summary: It was all too late. Oneshot IchiHitsu, not established. Character death.


**Title**: Rain

**Author**: Heuk Ya

**Genre**: Romance/Angst

**Rating**: T (PG-13)

**Paring**: Kurosaki Ichigo/Hitsugaya Toshiro

**Disclaimer**: Bleach sovereigns over me, not the other way round.

**Distribution**: Fanfiction and LJ

**Summary**: It was all too late.

**Spoilers**: None

**Warning**: Swearing and Character death

---------------IchiHitsu----------IchiHitsu---------------

**Author****'****s Note**:

It's an oneshot that randomly came into my head when I managed to get about an hour to spend with my muses. To those who are waiting for _Orderly Madness_, I apologise but it seems I will not be update anytime soon – my life is mental at the moment and I rarely get to even turn my laptop on.

It's my first sad-ending story; I'm sorry if you don't like character deaths, neither do I but I just get that kind of inspiration once in a while.

Just a little update is that I have come up with yet another story -kill me- and now I'm trying to decide whether I have the ability to continue two multi-chapter stories at once. /sigh/ Mental, I am.

Anyway, I hope this will satisfy anyone who is waiting for _Orderly Madness_ for now………OTL

* * *

**Rain by ****Heuk****Ya**

* * *

Rain. It was raining everywhere. Everywhere his eyes landed, as far as he could see, the small droplets of water were falling fast onto the muddy ground from the depressingly grey sky.

He usually didn't mind rain. In fact, he quite liked it. When it rained, the air thrummed with vitality as the humidity rose and the sound of the pelting rain was one of his favourites, listening to them in complete silence with his eyes closed as he took a brief break from the endless paperwork or chasing after his vice-captain's lazy butt.

Most of all, the water tingled his soul itself and it was the most pleasurable.

However, right at this moment, there was no time to spare for the short relaxation. Actually, at this moment, he hated the rain. It obscured his vision and his wet shihakshou clung onto his body as Hyourinmaru danced fatally, slashing the heavily blood-scented air.

The pelting sounds were inaudible, overwhelmed by the battle cries, the clashing sounds of zanpaktous and the desperate calls for medics. The bleached sands of Hueco Mundo had lost its whiteness long ago, now stained with deep red liquids splashed all over from shinigamis and arrancars alike as the faithful War raised its death tolls higher and higher.

The captains and vice-captains were attempting to shout over the deafening sounds, trying to instruct their subordinates who were, in turn, desperately trying to stay alive to carry out the orders. In a distance, he heard Matsumoto's usually jovial voice harsh and croaked as she screamed 'retreat!' to the squads she was leading and he grimaced inwardly although nothing changed on the perpetual scowl.

The long blade slashed and stabbed its enemies, its unearthly chill freezing the opponents' moves; the tenth division shinigamis could not help but keep glancing at their small captain who was moving almost too quick for their eyes even in the life-threatening battles, awed at the prodigy's praised skills that was slowly opening the path towards the Las Noches.

Their aim was not far; the cursed architecture was under attack in fourteen directions as the Vaizards and Gotei 13 had shaken their hands over the past hard feelings. The retaliation was fierce as expected but shinigamis saw the white building getting closer and closer and drew up the power that even they did not know about from sheer willpower.

His usually pristine haori now looked as if it had been dipped in red dye and the beautiful icy wings were dripping of blood ominously. Arrancars that had dared to get in the famed prodigy's way were graced with the power of the legendary dragon and the allies were warned to stay away from Hyourinmaru that was unleashed fully, freezing the forsaken world.

And in the midst of the frantic, desperate battle, he heard one voice that pierced through everything and reached his ears clearer than the clashing of Hyourinmaru with another arrancar.

"Toshiro!"

He did not even look back as the familiar reiatsu landed swiftly and deftly just next to him just when he slashed across the arrancar in front of him and grunted, his blazing eyes fixed on Las Noches.

"It's Hitsugaya taichou and you are damn late, Kurosaki."

"Blame fucking Aizen, he sent arrancars to Karakura to stop us."

Choosing not to respond, Hitsugaya clenched his teeth; even for a captain-class, this was no easy fight and the length of time he had stayed on bankai was starting to take its toll. Letting out a ragged breathing, he tightened his hold around Hyourinmaru and dove into the swirling pool of arrancars again, aware that the substitute shinigami was right behind him.

He did not doubt why the orange-haired teen was at his side. Kurosaki had been blurting out some absurd things to him in the past few months and the latest that had joined the list a few days before the official date for the War was 'I love you' to which he did not respond in any way. It seemed Kurosaki had not hoped for any either; he had simply smiled and left the office, leaving behind one very confused prodigy.

For a long time, they did not speak at all; both had their hands full as they fought against the incessant flow of arrancars. The only words that escaped their mouths once in a while was some very creative curses on Aizen who was yet to show his face in this grand historical 'event' and it was only when Matsumoto joined them with her squads that a brief conversation was attempted at by the orange-haired teen.

"Are you hurt anywhere? You are soaked in blood."

The reply was simple.

"Because you are not?"

Rain. The rain was insistent and incessant -was Hueco Mundo not supposed to be void of water?- and Hitsugaya roughly brushed away the wet lock of hair that had stuck onto his face, almost tempted to rip off the soggy sleeves of his shihakshou that snaked around his arms every time he made a swing.

Bloody arrancars, he thought to himself, as another influx of white-clad hollows entered his grey view. A quiet jingling of chain told him Kurosaki was fixing his grip on the black zanpaktou but he did not turn to look at the substitute shinigami; the familiar chocolate eyes would only push him into the deep confusion that had plagued his mind for days and now was not the time to lose his focus.

Then it happened in a blink of an eye. No one had heard the chant for the shikai or seen the blade that sped over the shinigamis and the arrancars alike at the speed of light. No one knew when the ex-captains had appeared on the top of the outer wall of Las Noches.

No one but Kurosaki Ichigo saw the deadly blade of Shinsou that was fast approaching his beloved prodigy, aimed perfectly to kill.

Hitsugaya blinked. Suddenly, an arm had snaked around his shoulders, pulling him roughly and now he found that his view was suddenly blocked out by blackness, the loud sounds of the brutal War suddenly gone from his ears. He was just blinking again when a familiar voice cut through the thick atmospheric silence like a knife through hot butter, erasing out any sounds, any silence.

"Don't space out, Toshiro. The War's still going on."

He was about to ask -growl- just what on earth the idiot was trying to do but any words that were about to leave his lips skidded to a halt as he started to take in the situation, the light reflected by the shiny blade stretched out at his eye level, piercing through Kurosaki's chest.

The teal orbs widened and shot upwards but could not see the soft brown eyes as they were fixed on the fox-faced shinigami on top of Las Noches whose mouth was in a small 'o' in playful amusement. Then to his horror, the blade was wrenched out of the chest with a sickening sound and the blood, as red and hot as those spilt on them and on the white sands, gushed out from the gaping wound as the substitute shinigami fell on his knees with painful coughs.

"Ichigo!!!"

He did not know where the name came from, yet it rolled off his tongue as naturally as breathing at the moment as he quickly held the teen in his arms. The hazelnut eyes he had defiantly avoided looked at him at the desperate call and smiled ruefully.

"So this is what gets you to call my name? You play too hard to get, Toshiro."

However before he could even think of smacking the vibrant-coloured head, the substitute shinigami went into another fit of bloody coughs, the gargling sound frighteningly loud in his ears. Kurosaki's breathing was fast turning wheezy and desperate and the chest heaved tumultuously. He quickly pressed the bleeding injury down with his small hands as he closed down his frosty wings around them, Hyourinmaru discarded and forgotten next to him. Every cough and every gurgle scared the wits out of his mind much more than he would ever admit and he gave up a strangled sound when he noticed the tiny bloody bubbles; the stabbed lung was giving up under the crushing air pressure and at this rate, Kurosaki was not going to survive this one fatal wound.

And it was all because of him.

"Hey, don't look like that."

He looked up at the quiet, strained words and was shocked at his face reflected in the chocolate eyes. The ever stoic, rigid features had crumbled away and frantic desperation and weighing guilt were clear in every line. It was a few seconds before he found his voice again.

"……Don't you fucking die on me, Kurosaki Ichigo."

A chuckle turned into bloody coughs and he almost winced when even more blood gushed out, the warmth only dreadful on his wet, red hands. Hitsugaya hysterically sought for a solution; freezing Kurosaki's injury without harming him required concentration which was currently all put into keeping them safe from the numerous arrancars that surrounded them. He cursed again, this time loudly enough to startle the orange-haired teen, and was growing more impatient as his impenetrable coolness seeped away with every second when a shaky hand gently landed on his bloody ones.

"Hey."

"…………"

"Go and get them. I'll be fine."

Hitsugaya could not believe the guts this guy had; his lung was collapsing and he was only minutes, maybe even only seconds away from death, yet he was telling him to leave. However it seemed Kurosaki had read his mind as he offered a lopsided smile which was ruined when he tried to push himself up.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!"

"Toshiro, seriously. I'm not going to die. Not here, not yet. So go and get them. You can't hold out here forever."

"And how do I know you are telling me the truth?!"

A short silence settled down between them, one gasping for breath, one lost in frantic whirlpool of emotions, until the substitute shinigami chuckled painfully again.

"Give me a kiss. Then I can't die 'cuz I'd finally got to know your taste and would not be able to die after getting it just once."

"You fucking moron."

"I'm telling you, I'm going to definitely live if you…!!"

The raspy words were cut short as the small hands on the bleeding chest pushed the teen down, followed by the small captain who crashed his lips on the ashen ones. The shock was only short-lasted and soon a tongue, hot as the blood that continued to taint his hands, was roaming around inside his mouth. Hitsugaya inwardly cringed; their first kiss was nothing but of ache and desperation as the arms that had mysteriously crept around his waist pushed him flush against the substitute shinigami.

Finally breaking off, he snapped his blazing eyes open and looked into the hazy brown ones as he muttered murderously with a slap on Kurosaki's face to keep him awake just a few seconds longer.

"You promised. You are not dying on me, Ichigo."

The pallid face turned into a weak smile and the orange-haired teen wiped off the trail of blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, you'll be seeing me again. Grab Hyourinmaru, Toshiro. Do your job."

The dainty hands lingered on the teen's chest for just another second before they left and tightly held the frosty zanpaktou. He casted one last look at Kurosaki, lying on the muddy ground with blood pooled around him, and when he received another nod with a smirk, he opened up the wings that had curled around them, the thunderous sounds and the heavy scent of blood assaulting his frayed senses.

---------------IchiHitsu----------IchiHitsu---------------

It was snowing, which was rare. Ever since he had learnt to control his reiatsu, it had hardly snowed in Seireitei but today, it was snowing as he watched the world turning white silently at the window of his bedroom, unfazed at the sharp arctic wind that whirled around him.

The stoic face was blank just as the once mesmerising teal orbs and the arms were tightly folded across the slowly rising and falling chest.

Minutes, then hours passed in utter quietness and he only shifted his gaze when he realised the snow had turned into rain and what little white cottons had fallen on the ground was now turning into disgusting slush as the water droplets mercilessly melted them away.

Rain. It was raining again. Hitsugaya sighed and turned his back against the grey sky, leaving the window opened, only to be greeted with the bare room, empty just like his heart.

Why, he asked himself yet again, why had he not noticed it any sooner? Why had he been so reluctant to see the truth? Why did it have to hit him in his face now after all this time?

Why did he have to realise that he had also fallen for the idiotic strawberry when it was not possible to see that stupid grin ever again?

He slowly walked, in fact, dragged his small feet across the tatami floor to the futon laid out in the middle and literally collapsed onto it. Tomorrow, he would have to return to his division, to his duties, to his life, void of one obnoxiously loud substitute shinigami. A small hand clenched the blanket so tightly that his knuckles turned white but that was the only sign he gave of the gnawing pain at his chest.

But he would live. Kurosaki, no, Ichigo had died to save this pitiful life of his so he would live and fight to survive until the last minute.

Whether he would ever find what or who to live for again, he did not know.

But he would live.


End file.
